


Check Up On Me

by tiigi



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babysitter Richie Tozier, Eddie has a son, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Richie is 18, Richie is an insufferable fuckboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21901996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi
Summary: The first few times it had happened, Eddie wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, so he decided to just ignore it. Then it had happened more and more until Eddie couldn’t brush it off as a fluke anymore. Richie Tozier was flirting with him, and he hasn’t stopped since. It’s starting to become a problem, because Eddie is starting to forget why he should not take Richie up on the offer.***Eddie has a crush on the babysitter he hired.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 22
Kudos: 234





	Check Up On Me

Eddie knew as soon as he met Richie that hiring the kid would be a mistake. He’s mouthy and rude and certainly not the type of person Myra would want around Alex; maybe that’s why Eddie _did_ hire him in the end, because living under Myra’s thumb was supposed to stop after he divorced her, not just carry on into his new life.

So, in hiring Richie Tozier to babysit Alex, he fully expected his son to start cursing and making wildly inappropriate remarks within minutes. What he does not expect, however, is the sheer amount of effort that Richie would put into flirting with him, and it’s seriously becoming a problem.

The first few times it had happened, Eddie wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, so he decided to just ignore it. Then it had happened more and more until Eddie couldn’t brush it off as a fluke anymore. Richie Tozier was flirting with him, and he hasn’t stopped since. It’s starting to become a problem, because Eddie is starting to forget why he should not take Richie up on the offer.

One: Eddie is much older than Richie. He’s not quite old enough to be the kid’s father, but he’s definitely old enough to know better. Two: Eddie is Richie’s employer. That’s, like, a whole other level of inappropriate. Three…

What’s three again? Shit, _is_ there a three? Eddie has become too distracted, watching Richie play with Alex. He’s standing in the doorway like a total creep, trying his best to be silent because Richie hasn’t noticed he’s back yet and the picture they make is actually kind of adorable. Richie is sitting cross legged on the floor opposite Alex and, Eddie thinks, they are in the middle of a particularly intense action figure fist fight. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Richie was the type to not let kids win at games but evidently Eddie is wrong. Either that or Richie is supremely awful at action figure fist fights.

Eventually Eddie has to announce his presence because he can’t keep acting like a creeper all night, so he coughs awkwardly and snorts when Richie jumps out of his skin. Alex uses the opportunity to hurl Richie’s action figure across the room and happily declare himself the winner.

“Eds, _dude!_ I was totally gonna win that!” Richie complains, grinning despite himself. He adjusts his thick framed glasses and cocks his hip, leaning against the sofa. “You’re back early.”

“Meeting finished early.” Eddie shrugs, trying not to look at the death trap that is Richie Tozier’s seductive smile. The guy is annoyingly attractive, just the kind of man that Eddie would go for… if he was a few years older and not being paid by Eddie. Shit.

“Lucky you.” Richie quirks a smile. “Or should I say lucky me?”

“How much do I owe you?” Eddie asks, steering the conversation very pointedly back to neutral ground. “Same as last time?”

“Aw, Spaghetti, you know I’d do it for free. Alex is an angel, as am I. We get along great!” Richie uses his fingers to brush his hair out of his face and Eddie’s throat is suddenly far too dry. Richie has really nice fingers: long and thick, always tapping out a pattern or fiddling with something. Richie seems like he knows how to use them–

“Yeah, sure Richie.” Eddie chokes out, heat rushing to his cheeks. “You’re definitely an angel.”

“You don’t believe me, Eddie? You wound me.” Richie, even when acting, has irresistible puppy dog eyes. “You mean you only want me around for my excellent babysitting skills?”

“Well, otherwise I’d just be hosting two toddlers, wouldn’t I?” Eddie fishes the money out of his wallet and hands it to Richie, who takes it with a sly smile and pockets it quickly, not making any moves to leave.

“I’m a big boy, Eddie,” Richie says after a few moments of silence. “I promise.” Eddie suddenly feels like his heart is throbbing and he’s captivated by Richie’s mouth: the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips, how red it is, how much Eddie wants to touch it. Jesus, his self control is abysmal.

“Well,” Eddie trails off pathetically with no idea what to say. He doesn’t want Richie to leave but he can’t ask him to stay, and at the same time he can’t ask him to go. Eddie, despite being older, has no control here.

Suddenly something hurtles past Richie and smacks Eddie in the stomach. An action man figurine lays face down on the carpet and Eddie is painfully reminded of how grouchy his son gets when he’s sleepy.

“Shit,” he mutters, quiet enough that Alex won’t hear. “I’ve got to get him to bed. God I need a drink.” He says the last bit on an exhale, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Richie should be the least of his problems - the neighbourhood teenage babysitter that he sees maybe two or three times a week maximum - but somehow he crept into Eddie’s brain and set up camp there.

“Oh, I’ll make you a drink.” Richie says hurriedly, looking between Eddie and Alex. “You go put him to bed. I’ll wait.”

“What?” Eddie gulps. Literally _gulps._ “Oh, Richie, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, Eds, really. Go!” He leaves no room for argument and Eddie isn’t a good enough person to insist on Richie leaving so he gets his hands under Alex’s armpits and hoists him up, holding him on his hip.

“I’ll, um, be right back.” How is it fair that Eddie is the one stuttering like an awkward teenager when the _actual_ teenager here is smirking and pouring drinks like he doesn’t give Eddie a heart attack every time he smiles.

It doesn’t take long to put Alex to bed because he’s already tired, but Eddie takes a few extra minutes to steady his breathing and think up a game plan for if anything should go wrong. Then he inspects himself in the mirror because, y’know, why not? He ends up loosening his tie and leaving it slung around his neck, not because he wants Richie to find him attractive but because it’s just more comfortable that way. Naturally.

When he gets back downstairs, Richie has helped himself to a glass of Eddie’s whiskey and is sitting on the sofa with another glass for Eddie himself. This is not what he’d meant when he said he could use a drink, but right now he really could do with some whisky.

“You know,” Eddie says as he sits down beside Richie. “I could get in real trouble for that.”

Richie shuffles a little closer so that their thighs are just about touching. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Richie is so much taller than Eddie and he towers over him, even when they’re both sitting down. Eddie wants to curl into him, to feel Richie’s big, stupid hands all over his body. He wonders if Richie is a virgin– he can’t be, surely, not with how unfairly gorgeous he is.

Suddenly, Richie’s palm lands face down over Eddie’s thigh, fingers curling inwards over the fabric of his slacks. Eddie jumps, whisky almost spilling over the rim of his glass. Richie’s hand is warm, fingers splayed wide, like a brand on Eddie’s skin. He swallows nervously.

“Richie…”

“Eddie, relax.” Richie’s voice is quieter when he speaks, lower, there’s more intent to his words. Eddie realises with a shock of arousal that this is How Richie must talk to his conquests, this is how he sweet talks people into sleeping with him. God, it’s working. 

“Richie,” Eddie panics when Richie’s hand starts to move higher, rubbing Eddie’s thigh. “This is really inappropriate. This is so wrong–”

“Eddie, _relax.”_ He says again, even more insistent. “You’re always so tense. You just need to unwind. I bet I could help you loosen up.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the cushions with his eyes squeezed guiltily shut, breath coming quick. His cheeks are on fire and he can feel the warmth of Richie’s body radiating from him. When was the last time Eddie got thoroughly fucked? Before Myra, definitely. It’s been years since Eddie last had a breathtaking orgasm and Richie is so stupidly handsome, rugged with his messy hair and broad shoulders and stubble that no eighteen year old should be able to grow. As much as Eddie would never admit it - because god knows Tozier doesn’t need anyone contributing to his ego - Richie is a stud. He’s young and strong and could probably make it really good for Eddie: it figures that life would be unfair enough to make someone as attractive as Richie really good in bed.

Does that make Eddie a MILF? Fuck.

Eddie catches Richie’s wrist just as his fingertips settle over Eddie’s cock, half hard and already rising to meet the contact. A remorseful sob escapes and Eddie clenches his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt.

“No,” he says, as firm as he can manage. “Richie, absolutely not.”

Richie, thankfully, doesn’t need to be told twice. He snatches his hand away immediately like the word ‘no’ has physically hurt him and when Eddie looks up Richie is frowning. He looks more frustrated than anything, maybe a little confused, with a furrow between his eyebrows that Eddie wants to smooth over with his thumb.

“You don’t want this, Eddie?” Richie asks, still using his dumb bedroom voice with his pretty bedroom eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Richie, it’s just– you’re just–”

“Young?” Richie guesses, lips curling up into a smirk. “You think you’re too old for me, Kaspbrak? You think you couldn’t keep up with me, huh?”

“Richie, seriously–”

“Hey, no, Eds, you don’t need to say anymore. If you don’t want my cock then it’s fine. I just think it’s a shame, is all. It seems like a waste of a good ass. I’d have fucked you real nice and deep, Eddie. You gonna tell me you don’t want that?”

Eddie is speechless, breathless, in desperate need of some pressure on his cock. Richie’s words have set a fire alight in Eddie that he can’t put out and he can feel his hole clench, desperate for Richie’s dick even though they’ve barely even touched yet. 

“I’m so much older than you, Richie.” Eddie’s voice is scratchy and weak when he speaks next. He sounds unconvincing at best - like a lying asshole at worst - and Richie snorts.

“So you want some fresh cock, Eddie, so what? You know it takes me, like, three seconds to get it up again. I could fuck you all night long and I’d still have you screaming my name. That’s a Tozier promise.”

Eddie is fairly sure he’d died and this is his eternal punishment for having the hots for an eighteen year old. 

“Besides,” Richie continues, sounding very self satisfied. “My dick is really big.” He snickers when Eddie shoots him a dirty look. “I’m just saying! I totally understand why you want me so much. It’s nice and long and thick, could get you in all the right places, Eds. Here, feel.”

Before he takes Eddie’s hand he hesitates for approximately two seconds as though waiting for Eddie to pull away or confirm that he really doesn’t want this. Eddie, however, is weak and horny and he does neither of those things. Instead he lets his hand be guided to Richie’s crotch where his cock is tenting his jeans, outline perfectly visible through the fabric. It’s so warm and hard that Eddie rubs it instinctively, liking the way it feels in his hand. Richie is right, it does feel big, like it would stretch Eddie out and reach so deep inside him he’d feel it in his fucking stomach. He likes the way Richie’s cock jumps at his touch, the way Richie grunts at the contact.

“Fuck yeah, there you go, Eds. You’re getting it.” Richie encourages as Eddie grinds the heel of his palm over Richie’s erection. “Just like that, _fuck._ Are you a size queen, baby? Bet you are. Bet you’d fucking _love_ my cock.”

For whatever reason, it’s those words that draws Eddie out of the stupor he’d fallen into. He snatches his hand away, horrified, and tries to look anywhere but at the literal teenager in front of him. The image of Richie, red cheeked, lips damp and parted, eyes lidded with pleasure, will be seared into his memory forevermore.

“My son is upstairs,” Eddie whispers, sick with guilt. “Jesus, what am I doing? Richie, you’ve gotta go. I’m sorry, but you have to leave.”

Eddie is expecting Richie to argue or put on a show like he did earlier, but to Eddie’s surprise he does none of those things. Maybe it was his tone of voice when he asked Richie to go, maybe he sounded like he was about to burst into tears, but whatever it is he’s grateful and resentful for it at the same time.

Richie stands up slowly, taking his time to stretch and roll his neck back on his shoulders. He throws one more look at Eddie as though he’s checking to see if he’ll change his mind, before he ambles towards the front door.

“It’s a shame,” Richie repeats, shrugging as though ‘a shame’ is all it is. A missed opportunity, nothing more. 

“Richie–” Eddie calls out, suddenly desperately afraid of being alone. He knows Alex is right upstairs, but Richie’s presence seems to fill up the house in a way nobody has in ages. Eddie doesn’t want him to leave, and he grapples with himself for something to say that isn’t ‘let me touch your cock.’

Richie pauses, raises an eyebrow, cocks his hips in a way that instantly draws Eddie’s attention to the tent in his jeans. 

Eddie’s heart sinks. He can’t do it. He’s too much of a coward.

“If you don’t feel comfortable working for me anymore–” Eddie starts, swallowing back an uncomfortable, stinging lump in his throat. Before he can finish the thought, Richie snorts and turns his back again.

He opens the door and lets himself out without another word. 

***

Less than a week goes by before Eddie sees Richie again, and when he does it takes him completely by surprise. Alex is with Myra for the week and Eddie has been home for a little over an hour. Work was horrible and the evening ahead seems like it’s going to be horrible as well, stretching on, endless and empty in front of him.

When the doorbell rings, even though Eddie isn’t expecting anybody, his heart soars. Even if it’s somebody trying to sell him something or a someone asking for directions, at least it’s something to fucking do for two minutes.

It turns out to be neither of those things. It turns out to be Richie Tozier, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, looking just as lively and gorgeous and _young_ as ever.

“Richie,” Eddie says as he opens the door, feeling a little breathless. Richie pushes his way inside, which is nothing new and it gives Eddie something to do with his hands as he shuts and bolts the door again. 

“What are you doing here?” Eddie stumbles over his words as the memories of last time Richie was here come trickling back, one by one like a leaking faucet. Richie’s smooth voice spilling filthy words, his hand warm over Eddie’s, his hard cock under Eddie’s palm…

“You don’t need me to babysit tonight?” Richie raises his eyebrows in thinly veiled confusion, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk. When Eddie shakes his head wordlessly, he clicks his fingers and says, “Aw shucks. Sorry about that, Mr. K, I must have gotten my dates mixed up.”

“No worries.” Eddie says stupidly, still feeling slow and embarrassed. Richie, clearly amused by his panic, carries the conversation.

“So, Alex is with his mom, huh?” At Eddie’s nod, he continues. “You got any plans for the evening. You gonna go out?”

“No, no.” Eddie almost laughs, and Richie’s face lights up at the first sign of genuine conversation. It’s hopelessly endearing. “I don’t really ‘go out’ much. God knows how that would end up.”

“What are you talking about?” Richie grins lopsidedly and plonks himself down on Eddie’s sofa, right where Eddie had stroked Richie’s cock last time he was here. “You’re hot, Mr. K, you could totally hit the town.”

Eddie blushes again, cheeks going warm. “Well, I’m– um. Thanks, Richie.”

Richie seems tickled by Eddie’s embarrassment. He spreads his legs a little wider and throws his arms over the back of the sofa, taking up far more space in Eddie’s house than an eighteen year old babysitter has the right to. For the first time since he had come in, Eddie allows himself to assess Richie. He’s wearing a thin t-shirt that Eddie can see his nipples through and tracksuit pants that don’t hide the line of his hard dick at all. Richie sees him staring and grins.

“I wasn’t expecting a free evening.” Richie drawls, totally lying. “Now I don’t know what to do with myself. Any ideas?”

“Richie…” Eddie starts, because it’s impossible to pretend he doesn’t know what’s happening here any longer and he feels like he’ll explode if he doesn’t address the elephant in the room. Then, as Eddie watches, Richie reaches down and wraps one giant hand around the outline of his cock through the sweat pants.

“Hmm?” Richie allows his eyes to flutter closed for a brief second and Eddie swallows, mouth filling with saliva. The desire to get down onto his knees and crawl towards Richie - to take Richie’s cock into his mouth and worship it - is sudden and overwhelming.

“Richie, I can’t– you… we _can’t.”_ Eddie says, succinct and well spoken as usual.

“Can’t we?” Richie’s hand is still moving in between his legs, and there’s a damp spot forming where the slit of his cock must be, turning the fabric dark. “We can’t what?”

“You’re eighteen years old.” Eddie tells him firmly. It’s not an explanation so much as an excuse. He wants Richie desperately but there’s something at play here that goes far deeper than desire. Eddie’s conscious, a voice that sounds suspiciously like his mother, is telling him this is wrong. With that in mind, does it even matter that Richie is old enough to consent, is older, in fact, than Eddie was when he lost his virginity?

Eddie gets the feeling that Richie is no blushing virgin.

“And I have a dog called Noodles,” Richie shrugs. “What’s your point?”

Damn Richie for being so distracting. It’s hard to focus when he’s right there, looking so beautiful and tempting, touching himself like he’s in the privacy of his own home and not in front of a man twice his age.

“It’s inappropriate.” Eddie says, voice wavering.

Richie sighs and takes his hand off himself. “Okay,” he laments. “If you say so. I think my friend is having a party, I can probably get my dick wet there.”

God, Richie is such a teenage boy, it’s disgusting how appealing that is. Plonk him in college, Eddie thinks, and he’d be a frat boy in under two minutes. Get his _dick wet?_ Who does he think he is? Does he really think some other loud mouthed teenager is going to be able to do what Eddie could for him?

He must see the unhappiness on Eddie’s face because he smiles and rubs his palms over his thighs like an offering. “It’s okay, Mr K.” He pauses to snicker, to show Eddie how sarcastic he’s being. “If you really don’t want to–”

Eddie drops to his knees. Richie looks surprised for a fraction of a second before his expression smooths out into satisfied self assurance.

“You’re such a little shit,” Eddie complains, scowling up at Richie from his place in between his legs. Now he’s here, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s grateful when Richie cups a palm around the nape of his neck and strokes at the short hair there, tugging him forward ever so slightly.

“Don’t be mean, Eds,” he says, wrestling his sweat pants down with his other hand until his cock is free, resting against his thigh. Richie has a beautiful cock; he wasn’t lying when he said it was long and thick, and it’s flushed a pretty pink colour at the tip. Eddie wants to put his mouth on it, so he does.

Richie inhales shakily when Eddie first darts his tongue out and swipes it over the head of Richie’s cock. It tastes like salt and skin and something else, something musky and inexplicably _teenage boy._ As soon as he tastes it, Eddie wants more.

“Oh fuck, yeah, that’s is.” Richie says breathlessly as Eddie suckles on the head, dipping the tip of his tongue into the slit of Richie’s cock. As a reward, he gets the taste of salty precome across his tongue, and laps at it until Richie’s cock spits more out. 

“God,” Richie groans. “I knew you’d be good at this. You’ve got the mouth for it.”

Eddie’s whole body flushes, warm and turned on. He wonders what the hell Richie means by that, how long he’s been thinking about Eddie like this, why it took him so long to make a move. 

He doesn’t ask. In the end, he just follows the gentle insistence of Richie’s hand on the back of his neck and sinks further down on Richie’s cock. Eddie bobs up and down between his legs, hollowing his cheeks and sucking in the way he knows drives men crazy. He’s really pulling out all the stops to impress an eighteen year old and it feels vaguely pathetic, but also shamefully hot. If only Richie wasn’t so generic with his dirty talk.

“Fuck, baby, yeah. Just like that.” He grunts, hips twitching up. He’s at least considerable enough to hold himself back from choking Eddie. “You’re so fucking hot like this.”

Eddie is about to pull back and give him a lesson on how to dirty talk, what not to say, when to just stay silent, when Richie surprises him by shaking things up a little.

“I wanna come in your mouth,” he gasps, fingers spasming in Eddie’s hair. “Is that okay?”

He doesn’t sound vulnerable. The fact that he’s asking for permission doesn’t make him seem like he’s confused or concerned. If anything, he seems more in control now than he was when he started. He asks in such a way that Eddie knows, no matter the answer, Richie would make it the right answer.

If anything, it just makes Eddie _really_ want to swallow Richie’s come. 

He nods, cheeks on fire as he looks up at Richie from under his eyelashes, Richie’s dick still in his mouth. He brings his hands up to wrap around the base, fingers overlapping because one hand won’t reach all the way around, and sinks down as far as he can go until the tip is brushing the back of his throat. 

The butterfly flutter of muscle against the head of his cock must push Richie over the edge because he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, applying a gentle pressure on the back of Eddie’s head to keep him in place. His cock throbs between Eddie’s lips as he starts to come; Richie comes in spurts, thick and warm against Eddie’s tongue. Eddie makes a big deal of swallowing, pulling off Richie’s cock when he’s done and showing the boy his open, empty mouth. Richie’s eyes are dark and wide, aroused and incredulous like maybe he can’t just believe that all happened. Then it smooths out again, just like earlier, and he helps Eddie to his feet.

Eddie feels shaky and unsteady on his legs, so he’s relieved when Richie pulls him down to straddle his lap on the couch. Richie’s hands are so big and warm under his t-shirt, sliding up and down the curve of his spine. They settle at the small of his back, fingers drumming over the swell of his ass.

“C’mon,” Richie urges, his voice hoarse and husky. Eddie gasps into Richie’s neck and his hips jerk forward involuntarily. “That’s right, get yourself off. C’mon, ride my thigh.”

Eddie’s cheeks are on fire as he grinds down into the delicious pressure. His head spins. He’s far too far gone to argue back or even notice how degrading this is. Richie is so big and warm and Eddie is overwhelmed. It’s not natural exactly, but at least it doesn’t seem entirely wrong for him to ride Richie’s leg like– like a _whore._

Eddie’s whole body shudders as he comes in his underwear, forehead pressed against Richie’s shoulder, hips still jerking against Richie’s thigh. He feels boneless and breathless, completely spent but satiated. 

The guilt will come later, he thinks. For now, he’s far too exhausted to think about it too much.

“Shit,” Richie gasps, head leaning back on the sofa, arm still slung loosely around Eddie’s slumped body. “That was great. You’ve been holding out on me, Eds.”

“Jesus,” Eddie murmurs, falling sideways onto the sofa so that his feet are in Richie’s lap and his head is propped up on the arm of the couch. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the wet, gross feeling in his underwear.

“You– um,” Eddie’s chest constricts with anxiety. “You still gonna go to that party?” He asks.

Richie snorts. “Idiot,” He says fondly, fingers stroking over Eddie’s ankle. “There was no party.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! <3


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